Alcoba Azul
by LaVioleBlanche
Summary: As I mentioned in Estaci del Anima: Cougar tells Jensen how he feels. In Spanish. Cougar feels better, Jensen has no clue what's going on, and everything goes well. Then Jensen buys a Spanish dictionary. M/M Rated M for later chapters.
1. Ready, Steady, Go!

Just FYI, "_This is Cougar speaking Spanish_", because I find it a little irritating to have to constantly go up and down, reading the translations. Short, easy-to-undestand Spanish will be in Spanish, but the long, important sentences will be written "_like this_," because I am lazy. Just pretend they are in Spanish, okay? Leave me alone; I'm tired. Reviews are good, though. I own nothing!

Cougar is, by nature, a very, _very_ patient man. He can remain motionless for hours on end, waiting out his prey, and can maintain his composure under pretty much any form of torture a prospective captor can come up with. He's quiet and cool-headed, and it's these traits that make him so very useful. The other Losers trust his assessment of situations, and even Clay won't argue when the sniper suggests a retreat.

So when the hacker became part of their team, and everyone got fed up very quickly with his "let's talk about every subject there is while I invade your bubble and bore you to death with techno chatter" behavior, Cougar was the last one standing, so to speak. He would sit, quiet and taciturn, but occasionally nodding or frowning or twitching the corner of his mouth, and let Jensen talk his ear off.

Jensen absolutely loves this.

When he realized that the silent man would listen to whatever he had to say, would actually pay some modicum of attention, he latched onto the sniper like some sort of technological koala and has yet to let go. This is where the problem began.

Cougar is not used to friendship. He's a sniper for a reason; he keeps his distance. Even Pooch, who was the closest thing Cougar had to a friend before Jensen came along, had only barely scratched the surface of What Makes Cougar Tick. And Pooch has always been fine with that. Jensen is not fine with that. When the Spaniard declined to answer any personal questions ("How old were you when you first killed somebody? What's your favorite ice cream flavor? Got any siblings? What's your favorite Journey song?") the hacker made it his personal goal to not only scratch the surface, but to drill through it. He began spending all his free time following the dark-haired man, peppering him with questions and opinions and whatever thoughts popped into his head.

Lots of people have tried to get inside Cougar's head. Women, men, psychologists, the CIA, and quite a few enemy potentates and soldiers. Many of them have been persistent as hell, but Jensen's got them all beat for staying the distance and sheer tenacity. More than once, Clay has had to order the info op to "get off poor Cougar's back (literally, on one occasion) and let the guy work!" Pooch laughs at Jensen's indignation and insistence that he's being really, really helpful. Roque used to roll his eyes or call them a couple of five-year-olds (when he was in a good mood; other times it was less g-rated name-calling). The hacker tends to ignore such comments, and if they bother Cougar he doesn't show it.

The problem is, after about a year of such constant, affectionate battery, Cougar realized that he'd begun to enjoy it, to expect it before and after every mission, during the occasional peaceful interlude, at least once a day. If he doesn't get a dose of Jensen-style ribbing, he gets edgy. Edgier than usual. Tetchy, even. Once, when he was assigned to scope out a location and ended up being alone for well over a week, he actually snapped at Clay. He tells himself it's just the natural attachment that guys get in the military, the kind of bond you get for people that save your life on a regular basis, that it's nothing more. Even though he knows that's bull, because Pooch and Clay and even Aisha have hauled his ass out of the fire on a few occasions, and he's saved them countless times, but he sure as hell hasn't had any dreams about slowly undressing any of _them_. It's just Jensen, it's always Jensen, smiling and moaning in his mind's eye, making him wake up with a start and a hard-on he's too mortified to do anything about.

After Bolivia- after Roque- after Max, the hacker became more interrogative, more needy, more chatty, while Cougar just got more and more withdrawn. Of course, he's always withdrawn, so it took a while for anyone to notice, but eventually Clay pulled him aside, wearing his "Worried Leader" expression.

"Cougar."

"Boss?"

"Look, Cougs... I dunno how to say this, exactly, but, uhh... we're not in the Army anymore."

Cougar arches an eyebrow, which in this case means "thanks, I was actually aware of that fact before now. What's your point?"

"What I mean is, uh-" Clay clears his throat. "Y'know, none of us are gonna judge you. But you need to get this thing out in the open before you explode from too much internal pressure. This thing, it's just gonna fuck with your head until somebody does something about it."

The sniper blinks.

"Don't try it, Cougar. If _I've_ noticed, you can be damn sure Pooch has, and even Aisha asked me what's up with the two of you. In fact, it seems like the only people we know who _haven't_ noticed are the two of you!"

"What do you mean?" It's the longest sentence Cougar has said in about two weeks.

Clay points a stern finger at his best marksman. "I mean: Tell Jensen. Soon. Or I will."

They may not be in the Army anymore, but Clay is still Cougar's CO, and he'll never disobey a direct order like that.

So. Tell Jensen.

Fortunately for Cougar, no language was specified.

Of course, Cougar is cautious. He starts out with innocent compliments, stuff that will just earn him a smile and maybe an "Aaww, Cougs!" if it gets accidentally translated. When the first few comments, ranging from "_You did a great job on that satellite today_" to "_Your shirt is funny_", get him only blank stares, he moves up to slightly more serious admissions.

"_Those swimtrunks are nice_," he says quietly as Jensen saunters past him on his way to the hotel pool.

"Huh?" The tech halts, glancing over his shoulder. "What? Do I have something in my teeth? Is my tag sticking up? What?"

And Cougar shakes his head, hiding a smirk.

"You shouldn't sit so close to the screen; you'll damage your eyes." Clay throws a few kernels of popcorn carelessly at the back of Jensen's head and gets up from his easy chair, heading for the kitchen. The hacker is sitting on the carpet of the living room in their current hideout, his nose an inch from the screen as Milla Jovovich is dragged screaming from her room by aliens.

"Eh. They're damaged already; remember that time I walked in on you and that dancer?" Jensen shrugs.

"What dancer?" Aisha stands and follows Clay, who is beating a hasty retreat. If Pooch weren't visiting Jolene, he'd be high-fiving Jensen and laughing.

Cougar frowns and grabs the back of the blonde's shirt, hauling him back a few feet to a safe distance and muttering, "_I like your eyes the way they are; don't make them worse_."

"What?"

Being stuck in a large air duct for an hour, pressed up against a sweaty, irritable, just-as-talkative-as-ever Jensen would drive any other Loser absolutely insane. Fortunately, Cougar has been a little insane for most of his life. He sits as still as possible and listens to his friend rant about all the different ways this plan could have gone better, how many ways it's gone wrong already, how it's going to go from here, and the outcome of the newest episode of Warehouse 13.

"-and then they go back to the hospital and Mika's all better, and she wants to talk about what Pete said but he pretends he can't hear her and everything works out, and then Artie and Claudia-"

"_Your hair smells nice_," Cougar says, shifting his hips away from Jensen's and feeling the cool steel of the vent on his belly.

"-and she turns around and there's Todd and what? Did you just insult me? I'm pretty sure that was an insult. It was, wasn't it? What does _cabello_ mean?"

"You fucking idiot!" Clay is not pleased. None of the Losers are pleased. They are, in fact, in the state of mind that is most often known as Pissed Off. Most of this mood is directed at Jensen.

"Jesus, Jensen, do you have any idea how much you freaked us out? We thought you'd been fucking captured! But, no, we find out after two days of absolute hell that you're absolutely fine; you just 'forgot to call'!" The colonel rages. Behind him, Aisha is silently glaring, and it's hard to decide which is scarier. The hacker sits, arms folded defensively, and stares belligerently back at his commander.

"What was I supposed to do? My niece broke her ankle; I had to visit-"

"You were supposed to _check in_! You were supposed to give somebody a clue as to your whereabouts! For cryin' out loud, man, you nearly gave Cougs an aneurism!" Pooch waves dramatically.

Jensen sighs. "I'm sorry. I just kind of panicked when I heard, okay? C'mon, Pooch, wouldn't you flip if something like that happened to your kid?"

Pooch can't argue with that, and after a few more minutes of shouty venting, the irritated fugitives back off, satisfied that, for a while at least, their tech has learned his lesson. Only Cougar remains, leaning against a wall, hat tipped down.

Jensen looks at him. "Sorry I gave you a panic-attack, Cougs. I'm kinda sad I missed it; I'd pay good money to see you flip a shit. You gonna yell at me too?"

The Spaniard tilts his head and heads for the door. He pauses, face still obscured, and says, "_I'm glad you're okay. I was worried. Next time, tell someone_."

"Aagh, he's cursed me in ancient Spanish! I'm doomed! That's what that was, right? A curse? Or something like a curse? Am I getting close?" The American's voice follows him as he walks away, the corner of his mouth twitching in silent relief.

"Cougar, watch out! 8 o'clock!" Aisha's strained voice buzzes through his comm, but the sniper keeps his focus trained on the two figures, ten stories down in the parking lot of Multi-National United that have Jensen cornered. Just a second, he need just a second more-

He exhales and squeezes the trigger once, twice, and the two men with Kalashnikovs fall. In the next instant, he's rolling onto his back, his pistol drawn and firing at the man who's managed to creep up behind him on the roof of the building where he's perched. The man grunts as a bullet tears a hole in his chest, but the shot comes a second too late and Cougar makes a muffled sound as a slug buries itself in his side.

"Cougar!" Pooch, flying above in their emergency-escape helicopter, shouts a warning to the others. "Guys, I just saw Cougs take a shot; I'm coming in to grab 'im!"

The chopper swoops in, loud and looming, and he can see Pooch maneuvering the controls for a landing. He rolls onto his belly once more, gritting his teeth, and peers through his scope at the distant figure of Jensen. He's shouting into his comm, "Cougs? Cougs, you okay? Hey! You better be okay!" Through the scope, the wounded man can see his friend's worried expression, and he raises his talkie to his lips, grunts out a "_Si_," and then Pooch is dragging his ass upright and over to the chopper.

"I _warned_ you! I told you that guy was coming up behind you; didn't you hear me?"

They're in an abandoned warehouse, lit by candles and propane lamps. Cougar is stitching himself up, the bullet lying in a bloody puddle next to a pair of tweezers, and Aisha is railing at him.

"_Si_. I heard," he says, and winces as the thread tugs the ragged edge of his wound.

Aisha throws her hands up in exasperation. "So why the hell did you wait to turn and kill the guy?"

He doesn't answer, just _tsks_ in frustration at the way his thread keeps pulling free and restarts his stitch. His hand is perfectly steady; he's done this countless times before, to himself and the others, but the position of the wound is just so that he can't quite get a good angle to stitch from.

The irritated woman turns and looks at the others to back her up, but Pooch and Clay learned long ago that Cougar will be Cougar and no amount of shouting will make him place himself before his friend in dangerous situations. Jensen is the only one supporting her, yelling and furious right alongside her.

"Why would you ignore a warning like that? C'mon, man, _I'm_ the stupid one!"

The sniper remains unresponsive. Clay, to his unending credit, decides to step in before anyone's head explodes.

"Alright, guys, I think he gets the point. We're okay, aren't we? Nobody else got hurt, the mission went well. Let's all get some rest and let him patch himself up."

Aisha scoffs, and Pooch rolls his eyes, but they obey and head for their separate bunks. Jensen stays, glowering, arms folded across his chest. The colonel sighs and pats him on the shoulder, casting a "sorry, pal, you're on your own; good luck" glance back at the wounded man as he exits.

Jensen paces angrily in front of his friend. "Seriously, Cougs. Why couldn't you have just shot the guy when she warned you? Do you have a fucking death wish? You're lucky he just winged you; you could've been killed!"

"_They would've shot you. I'd rather take a thousand bullets than watch you be hurt._" Another knot slips loose. "_Mierda_." He purses his lips and rethreads the needle.

"What the hell did any of that mean? Except the last part; I think I got that. Dammit, Cougar, I wish you'd talk to me! In English, for fuck's sake! And let me do that!" The hacker snaps, snatching the needle and thread. Cougar relents, and tries not to flinch as the point sinks into his skin and pulls, Jensen crouching in front of him, alive and gloriously unharmed, and that's all the sniper could ask for.

"Stupid mysterious bastard," the tech says affectionately, his tone softening as he places a steadying hand against his friend's hip. Cougar hisses slightly, and pretends it's at the sting of the antiseptic, instead of the way Jensen's fingers slip, for a split second, down his skin, brushing sweat and blood away.

"_Gracias_," he says softly, lowering his head to hide a blush in the shadow of his hat.

Jensen grins up at him, perfect and radiant. "See, now _that_ I understood."


	2. Jensen Strikes Back

I have no idea what Jensen's niece's name is, or how old she is, and I am too lazy to look it up. So, uhh... suck it. Also, more references! I enjoy them; can you tell?

Jensen is, by nature, a very impatient man. Impulsive, even. Reckless, some have said. A fucking juvenile delinquent in a man's body, others (not naming names, but ROQUE) have said. He gets irritable just waiting in line for the bathroom, and waiting for his toast to pop in the mornings is an epic battle between him and the little red toaster light. Make no mistake, he's brilliant at what he does. He can hack into a brand-new, high-tech government program faster than the average person takes to sneeze. But yeah, patience and caution? Not his strong suits.

So it's a completely impulsive moment when, parked in the cafe of a Blackwell's, casually hacking into the spy satellites over Russia, he notices a stack of Spanish-to-English dictionaries on sale. Still a little annoyed at Cougar for his air of Hispanic Mystery and Jensen-Baffling Superpowers, he grabs one and flips it open to the "c" section.

_Cabello- Hair, as on top of the head._

_...Well, that's not helpful at all_. He leafs through it, scanning the pages for familiar-sounding words. Luckily, he's always been a speed-reader, and about five minutes later he's scribbling away on a napkin, his hand a blur as he looks up word after word. Half an hour later, his hand comes to a sudden halt. He blinks, looks at the book, blinks again, looks at the napkin. He stands abruptly, wearing the stunned expression of someone who has been recently struck on the head quite hard. He picks up his laptop, slips the napkin into his pocket, and very slowly lifts the book, staring at it like it's going to make a run for it. He carries it to the counter and pulls out his wallet.

Cougar is sitting on the arm of the big La-Z-Boy in the 'den', which was really the office attached to the warehouse until Clay dragged the chair in and Pooch 'found' a flatscreen to install. He's sort of half-watching Lolarennt, glancing occasionally at the screen because it was on when he walked in. He's more focused on cleaning his rifle, propped against his hip, when Jensen walks in. The image of the sniper, gun displayed in an unintentionally suggestive manner, polishing it in that casually sexy way of his, makes the hacker freeze, his mouth going dry.

Cougar glances up and flashes him one of those little twists of the mouth, that smirk that Jensen would call adorable if he didn't know it would get him killed.

"Hey, Cougs. What, uhh, what's up?"

Cougar shrugs. "Not much."

"So I see."

His voice is strange, Cougar notices, taking another look at his friend. He sounds nervous. "_Que pasa_?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. I'm just... um. Tired. Yeah, I'm really really tired from doing... y'know, stuff." He heaves a huge yawn and stretches, his shirt (which reads **Rule #26: A Little Sunscreen Never Hurt Anybody**) riding up to reveal his flat, taut belly. The sniper tries, he really does, tries not to stare, but his eyes are on autopilot and he's ogling that strip of skin like it's the last shell in the box and he's surrounded by zombies. Jensen, for all his goofy, childlike behavior, is sneakily observant, and he has to stop himself from grinning as an idea strikes him. A crafty, cunning, extremely sadistic idea. "What's wrong, buddy?"

Cougar shakes himself and drags his gaze back up to the hacker's face. "Nothing. I- nothing."

Oh yes. There is a definite idea forming.

~::~

Impatient he may be, but stupid he is not. Jensen starts out small, a few days later, by simply yanking his shirt (which simply says "**Hurm**.") over his head and tossing it so that it 'accidentally' lands in the sniper's lap across the room. He watches from the corner of his eye as Cougar flinches and stares at the shirt before turning to stare intently at Jensen's exposed torso from under the brim of his hat.

"_Maldita sea, distrae bastante con una camisa_," he mutters.

And Jensen waits until Cougar has turned back to- surprise!- cleaning his gun to surreptitiously pull the dictionary out from under his desk and flip through it.

It doesn't take long to scribble out the translation: _Dammit, you're distracting enough with a shirt on_.

He grins.

~::~

Two days after that, Jensen continues his little payback by making sure that he is within earshot of Cougar when the hacker begins one of his technological seductions. The dark-haired man is seated on the floor, hat pulled low like he's sleeping, but the American can tell he's awake. He sets his new acquisition, a laptop stolen from a Mexican runner on Max's payroll, on the table in front of him and begins, sliding his arms from their sleeves slowly as he intones in his deep, sultry hacking voice.

"Hello there, my little Spanish sweetheart."

He sees Cougar twitch and peer up at him, then shake his head and lower his eyes once more, reassuring himself that Jensen's talking to the computer. The tech lets his shirt fall to the floor and begins to pull his undershirt up, letting his fingers trail over his skin in a shameless display. He's got Cougar's attention now, he's sure, and he continues his monologue.

"You look nervous. There's no need to be afraid of me, gorgeous. I know you like to play coy. Yes, you do. But you can't keep anything from me." The undershirt falls. He unbuckles his belt, draws it out slooowwly, runs it through his fingers and cracks it like a whip before dropping it.

There's a soft noise from about floor level, like someone going "hnng".

"You see, babe, I'm gonna open you up. That's right, I'm gonna spread you wide open, and I'm gonna get deep inside you. So deep you won't be able to help yourself; you'll let it all out. You'll spill for me." The zipper down one tooth at a time, and he lets his trousers hang loosely for a moment before shimmying his moneymaker and sending them pooling at his feet. He steps out of them, fingers playing over the hem of his boxers.

A very faint "_Mierda_," and the sound of movement, like someone is trying to shift to a more comfortable position without being conspicuous.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna get inside you and I'm gonna make you-"

"Jensen! Shut up! For the love of god, man, that's just nasty!" Pooch's irate voice comes through the wall, startling both the hacker and his captivated audience.

Jensen sighs, disappointed that he hasn't managed to raise a real response until he glances over and sees that the sniper has removed his hat and placed it carefully over his lap, his legs crossed awkwardly.

Jensen's Vengeance Plan: 2, Cougar's Frustrated Libido: 0.

~::~

They are in the hotel room he and Cougar are sharing on their latest Max-chasing lead. He is stepping out of the shower, feeling refreshed and clean, and starts to reach for one of the big, fluffy towels hanging on the rack. He hesitates. Cougar is sitting on the bed outside the bathroom, waiting for a turn at the shower. Chuckling deviously, the blonde grabs one of the smaller, barely-a-towel-more-of-a-washcloth towels and wraps it around his waist. It _just_ covers his groin, hangs from his hips and ends right at the bottom of his ass, casting a shadow down his legs. Wiping the grin from his face, he strolls out the door, trying to look as casual as possible. There is an immediate intake of breath from the sniper. Jensen beams and looks at his companion over his shoulder as he heads for his suitcase.

"Shower's all yours, pal. Something wrong?" He tilts his head in that perfectly innocent way he's been practicing.

Cougar stands, hiding his face under the hat as usual, and mutters a quick, "_Usted me matará. Joda, es tan..._" before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

As soon as the door closes, Jensen whips the book out from the secret false bottom of his suitcase. "Let's see... usted..."

_You're gonna kill me. Fuck, you're so..._

"Wow." It's an absolute power trip, he'll admit, seeing Cougar, _Cougar_ of all people, totally derailed by lil ol' him, the geeky hacker that never shuts up and is only good with computers when it comes to seduction. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he has the sudden strong impulse to yank the bathroom door open and jump into the (presumably cold) shower with the sniper. He also has an equally strong urge to go in there and tell Cougar about the dictionary. He controls both urges, telling himself that it's too soon, that he'll come clean soon enough, that telling him now might get the techie shot down or just plain shot. Still, there's that persistent nagging little voice that tells him that he's being kind of a dick, that it's not okay to be messing with Cougs like this. He tells the voice to shut up.

~::~

About a month goes by, full of missions and jobs and intel and ops and subtle Cougar-torture.

It's a beautiful day. Jensen is just back from a quick swim in the lake near their latest hideout ("Oh, Cougs, would you mind helping me rub some sunscreen into these hard-to-reach spots?") and he's setting up a secure phone line to make a call to his sister dear. All in all, he's feeling pretty good.

"Hello, hello, sister of mine! How are the two most beautiful ladies in the whole wide world do-" An extremely displeased-sounding female voice on the other end cuts him off.

"You," she says, somehow managing to pack a ridiculous amount of scorn and judgement into one tiny, single-syllabel word.

"Me? Me what?" He usually does 'surprised innocence' so well, but when it comes to his sister his cons are like tissue paper trying to hold off a tidal wave.

"Don't 'me what' me!" He can hear her pointing the Finger of Shame at him from across the country. "You. Are a cruel, stupid person, Jake Jensen. You are fucking with the emotions of one of the most dangerous men in the world."

"I have no idea what you could possibly be-"

"Oh, save it, Jake! I know everything!"

"Everything?" That seems a bit much, he thinks. "How could you possibly know everything? I haven't spoken to you in like a week and a half-"

"Pooch. Duh."

"Pooch?" He casts a glare at his 'friend', who is walking away quickly as he stows his cellphone in his pocket, having apparently suddenly found something to do with the car. "That gossipy bitch!" Ohhh, someone is going to be receiving some very nasty computer viruses, _very_ soon.

His sister ignores his moral outrage and continues. "Listen. I know full well that you've had a massive crush on Cougar since day one. I get that maybe you're freaking out a little now that you've learned that he might feel the same way. But... seriously? Messing with him like this cannot possibly end well. Either he'll get hurt, or he'll hurt you. I don't want that happening. You're both like brothers to me-"

"I _am_ your brother," Jensen says sullenly, annoyed at her uncanny ability to be completely right, all the time.

Still ignoring him, she delivers the final threat. "Jake. Fix it. Or I will tell your niece just how mean you are being to Uncle Cougar."

"What?" Jensen is in serious trouble now. Emma, like her uncle Jake, worships the ground Cougar walks on, knows that he is the epitome of awesomeness and all that is cool. If she hears about this, she will shun Jensen so hard he will implode. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I will. You know I will. I hope you have the ability to sink into the ground or turn invisible, because you're gonna want to when you're faced with the judgmental glare of an eleven-year-old."

"No no no no no no! I'll- I'll fix it! I can fix it! No problem! Please no Judgement Glares!" He begs.

She seems to consider. "You'll talk to him?"

"Yes! Absolutely!" He gulps, not sure which scares him more: the thought of facing his crush and admitting everything, or the thought of the soul-piercing stare of his niece.

"Good. But if you back out, don't think I won't know." He can hear her smiling a little now. "C'mon, Jake. I know you can do this. You face death and danger every day, right? This should be a walk in the park!"

"I hate parks," he mutters. "I'm allergic to grass pollen."

"No you're not."

"Well, I wish I was. It would give me an excuse." He sighs, resigned. "Okay. I'm gonna go... build up my courage."

"You are not allowed to get drunk to do this!"

"...Goddammit."


	3. Trouble Is A Friend

Sorry it's so short, guys. I have been tres busy with lots of things. Here to distract you is another chapter of Jensen being a whiny bitch and Aisha channelling Mr. Smith. Sorry, Jensen. Also, REFERENCES! I has them.

~::~

Cougar is a very reserved person. He tends to look perpetually unimpressed, no matter what kind of insane turmoil is raging around him. It's part of what makes hims great sniper, and also a lot of what makes him a great poker player. However, today his emotions are stamped clearly across his face, and everyone on the team (save one conspicuously absent hacker) has noticed.

Cougar is officially Depressed.

They're staying in yet another hotel, but at least it's a nice one this time thanks to Aisha threatening to chop off Clay's balls if he stuck them in another roach-infested rathole. This place has beds with silk sheets that practically beg to be fornicated in, bathtubs big enough to fit about eight people at a time, and an indoor water park for the kids, or, in this case, Jensen. Since they got here ahead of schedule, and the contact they're looking for won't be here for another two weeks, Clay has declared a break. Kind of. More like a Look-like-you're-having-fun-and-blend-in-but-keep-an-eye-out kind of break. Fortunately, looking like you're having fun can, in fact, be done while _actually_ having fun. Pooch has been i-chatting with Jolene in between bouts of 'surveillance' at the mall and theatre, Aisha has been going to every boxing match she can get tickets to, and Clay has been gambling a dozen rich snobs out of their cash a night.

Cougar has been either holed up in his room, cleaning his gun, or on the roof, cleaning his gun and watching people come and go through the scope. Pooch has been bringing him his meals, and after discovering that the sniper was just taking the food and throwing it out the window to the gulls, he's been standing by to make sure Cougar eats them as well.

Sources agree: Depressed.

Sources also agree on the source of this depression: Jensen.

Jensen has been avoiding Cougar.

The first two days they were at the hotel, he goofed around and spent nearly every waking hour in the water park or the arcade in the lobby, in between meals and casual hacking of NASA. Normal Jensen behavior, everyone figured. Then Cougar, in a rare display of almost-normality, attempted to play House of the Dead 4 with the hacker.

It's not that the shove hurt, or the fact that it caused Cougar to land on his ass in front of a load of people, including their teammates. It's the way the tech stared at him, the look of intense _fear_ in his eyes before he turned and ran, that's like a knife twisted in the Spaniard's gut.

Since then, Jensen has been at the hotel just long enough in the mornings to grab a croissant and coffee before disappearing to who-knows-where, staying out until around 4 in the morning when he stumbles back to his room.

Four more days go by.

Aisha is in the hotel's sad excuse for a gym, lifting the heaviest weights they have to offer and mourning the fact that there's no punching bag when Jensen comes sidling in out of the side of her vision. She shoots him a "please bear in mind that I am thinking of restarting my ear collection" glare and pulls her earbuds out, _Porcelain and the Tramps_ poring out of them before she switches her Mp3 off.

"What." It doesn't come out as a question; more like an accusation.

The blonde man swallows nervously, seriously reconsidering his choice of Aisha as a 'neutral party'. "Uhhh, hi, Aisha," he begins, trying and failing to use his nerdy charm that usually works so well. "I was just, y'know, passing through..."

"Jensen. Your room is on the third floor. This is the eighth. What reason could you possibly have to be 'passing through'?"

_Crap_. "Okay, you got me. I was wondering if you could ask Cougs a quick qu-"

"I refuse to get in the middle of this," she says before he can get any further. "I love mental anguish as much as the next ruthless killer, but I am not going to help the two of you torture each other."

"Torture? Wha-"

"You know what I hate, Jensen?" She sets the weights down and strolls over to the fountain. "I hate liars. You wouldn't wanna lie to me, would you? Specially not if it'll make me mad."

"Umm," the hacker blinks behind his glasses. "No, Ma'am?"

"Good. Know what else I hate?" She bends and lets the water jet into her mouth and is silent for a moment, prompting Jensen to offer an answer.

"...When people don't use their turn signals while driving?"

She pauses and says, "That, too." She takes one more slurp of room-temperature water before turning suddenly, a look of fury on her face so intense that he tries to leap backward to escape, unfortunately crashing into a bench press. The deadly female Loser jabs a finger at his chest. "I. Hate. Cowards."

"O-okay-?" Jensen is standing as still as possible, hands raised defensively, just in case she tries to use the Five-Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique on him.

She continues, stabbing him a little harder with each word and looking like she's considering using him to supply the gym with a new punching bag. "I hate cowards, Jensen, and I really hate watching cowards mess with one another. You and Cougar have been dancing around each other for as long as I've known you, which isn't that long, but according to Clay it's been like this for pretty much forever."

Okay, now he's starting to get annoyed, because A: this is the second time in about a week that he's been ranted at by a woman that scares him and B: don't _nobody_ call his Cougar a coward. He'd like to protest, but she's still going.

"And I was fine with just ignoring you- because I'm very good at ignoring people- but now one or both of you has royally fucked up and now _you're_ avoiding him and _he's_ not eating and-"

_Whoa. What?_ "He's not eating?"

"-and if the two of you keep this up you're gonna fuck with our mission, and future missions, and if that happens I will slice your-"

"He's not _eating_? When did that start?" Cougar never eats very much, but the last time he stopped eating entirely was after Bolivia. No one noticed for about a week and a half, when the sniper passed out on line in the factory.

"When the hell do you think it started? The day you freaked out in the arcade." She withdraws her hand and heads for the weights once more. "Now, if you know what's good for you, you'll man up, get your nerdy little butt out of this gym and go talk to him."

"But I-"

"Don't be a pussy! Now get!" She hoists a 22kg weight and pumps it with one hand.

"Is-"

"Get!" She swings the weight, arcing past his face by about an inch.

Jensen gets.


	4. Don't Stop Believin!

FOOK YOU, HOMEWORK. I REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR EXISTENCE.

~::~

It's dusk. Cougar is pretty sure that if he dissembles and cleans his gun one more time, it will disintegrate. He sighs, raises the scope to his eye and peers out from between the curtains. His window overlooks the outdoor pool, and he's vaguely hopeful that maybe Jensen will be out there in his pink-and-green, petunia-patterned swim trunks, splashing around and going down the slides and showing off his "cannonball skillz" as he calls them. Of course, that familiar blonde explosion of hair is nowhere to be seen.

He turns away to glance at the tray of cooling onion soup and grilled salmon that Pooch ordered him to eat. He pulls his hat down over his eyes, lays flat on the bed.

_Tink tink tink._

His eyes snap open with a start and he rolls off the bed, grabbing his rifle as he falls. He pops back up, gun aimed at the window where the tapping is coming from.

Jensen is hanging suspended in front of the glass, wearing one of the new climbing harnesses that Clay specifically ordered him not to fuck with. He's grinning ruefully as he knocks on the pane, mouthing words that Cougar can't hear. Rolling his eyes, temporarily overwhelmed with relief at not having shot the crazy hacker, the sniper sets his rifle on the bed and opens the window.

"Hey, Coug. I just, uh, y'know, thought I'd give one of these babies a try. If we ever need to go spelunking- which is an awesome word- we'll wanna know how to use these really well when the Crawlers attack. 'Course, we've got guns instead of picks, but I still think-" The tech babble falters when Cougar reaches out and grabs the blonde's shirt collar, hauling him into the room and letting him drop to the floor.

"Dangerous," the Spaniard mutters as an explanation, stalking back to the bed in the hopes that Jensen will just leave now.

"Hell yeah, Crawlers are dangerous; they're all- oh. Right." Completely failing to take a hint, as usual, the American stands and begins to disentangle himself from the harness. He makes a frustrated noise through his teeth as he tries to force open the clip around his waist. After a few moments of struggle, he looks up. "Cougs? Buddy? Wouldja mind-?" He asks it like he has a million times in the past, whenever he got stuck in a tree or confronted by an angry Spanish-speaking woman or surrounded by hostile men with AK-47s, always the same easy question. _Wouldja mind...?_

And before his brain catches up with his body, Cougar is across the room, shaking his head in exasperation as he does every time the question is asked, his fingers brushing over Jensen's as he carefully presses the release on the buckle. The hacker's still wearing that casually sheepish grin, which falls the second their eyes meet and they both realize that they're standing very close together and that Cougar's hands are at Jensen's crotch. They freeze like that, soldier's instinct taking over, telling them both to hold position until the danger passes. Which, in this situation, doesn't help at all. There's one of those 'awkward silences' that Jensen's heard of. He decides he does not like awkward silences. He clears his throat.

"Well," he says, his eyes fixed on the bad reproduction of Kahlo's _Viva la Vida_ on the wall over Cougar's shoulder. "Thanks, man. You know me; I can hack the fricking Death Star with one hand, but when it comes to fiddly little buckles, I just can't seem to, uh..."

"_Si_," The long-haired Loser is trying with all his willpower to move away, to take a step back, but he's stuck, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides.

"So..."

They're both silent again.

"So, uhh, look, I'm sorry about the other day at the arca-"

"No, _lo siento_, I did not mean to startle you-"

"No, I was just-"

More silence.

"I-I've... I haven't been honest with you," Cougar begins, and at the same time Jensen starts to babble.

"I've kind of been messing with you lately..." _Oh, hell_, he thinks, and blurts as quickly as possible, "I, uh, I bought a Spanish dictionary."

"You... what? When?" It's not often that the sniper looks totally thrown for a loop, but for a few seconds he just stares at his friend.

"About... about a week and a half after you started acting weird. Y'know, when you started hitting on me in Spanish. It was driving me crazy, not knowing what the hell you were saying, so I just-"

_Fuck it._ He bites the bullet.

"The, uh, the thing is," Jensen says, trying to look at anything but Cougar, "I think there's a definite possibility that I might maybe be kind of a little completely in love with you."

Even more silence.

"_Q_... _Que_?" Cougar manages, unconsciously slipping back into Spanish, his eyes wide, completely stunned.

"I said..." The hacker leans forward, takes a quick breath, and presses his lips to his friend's. When there's no reaction beyond a slight twitch, he pulls away enough to kiss a line along the smaller man's jaw, up to his ear, long black hairs tickling his nose as he whispers, "_Te amo_."

He moves, slowly, trying not to startle the sniper, and wraps his arms around Cougar's waist, drawing him in.

The second time their mouths meet, Cougar seems to have realized, at least on some level, that this _is_, in fact happening. His lips part and Jensen makes a noise, a kind of happy little hum, and immediately begins a thorough investigation of his friend's mouth with his tongue.

And then it's like someone's flipped a switch; Cougar lets out this low, gravelly _growl_ and wraps himself around the hacker with all his limbs, pressing them together as close as is physically possible without actually merging their bodies through their clothing. Jensen grins into the kiss, slightly surprised by just how easy it is to support the sniper's weight- it's so easy to forget that Cougs is small, compact, all lean muscle and sinew under his loose-fitting garments. Jake stumbles his way across the room, both of them falling gracelessly onto the bed, his hands never leaving the Spaniard's body. His fingers are darting up under Cougar's shirt, gliding along his spine, dancing over his jutting hipbones, and finally settling on his belt buckle.

"Cougar..." He separates their lips just long enough to whisper, "¿_Comprende_ _ahora_?" (Understand now?)

"_Si_," the dark-eyed man raises his head and murmurs affirmations as he nuzzles along the blonde's jaw. "_Si_." He kisses the spot behind Jensen's ear, enjoying the shiver he gets as a reward. "_Si_." He trails his hands up the hacker's sides, fingertips slipping beneath the loud orange shirt (which reads MRS FRENCH'S CAT IS MISSING) and up to stroke over his nipples. The hacker moans, hips rolling, then sits back slightly to peel first his, then Cougar's shirt off and hurl them away like the clothing is personally offensive. Immediately, Jensen's mouth is assaulting the sniper's chest, biting his collarbone, licking an outline around his Sacred Heart tattoo, nipping and kissing each of his ribs.

Cougar remains immobile, still only half-convinced that this isn't a dream. He focuses on sounds: the quiet _ffffs_ of fabric under Jensen's deft fingers, the hiss of a belt being pulled, the _zhhht_ of his zipper, the soft in and out of breath, and then-

-_then_-

"_Ahh_!" The sound escapes before he can hold it back, shocked and helpless and a lot more breathy than he'd like to admit. Jensen chuckles, which only makes it worse, and bobs his head, and he's way too good at this; his mouth should be some sort of felony. His hands are everywhere, sliding up Cougar's thighs, down his taut stomach, over his narrow hips, making short work of his trousers. He pulls his head back, dragging his tongue up the sniper's shaft, and works his way back up the lean, writhing body, sucking and biting.

"Jensen- _mi dios_- _Jensen_-" Cougar's brain seems to have shorted out; all he can do is gasp and squirm and repeat the American's name like a prayer.

The blonde grins, elated, high on the rush that is Cougar, and sits back to admire his friend. "Coug..." The grin fades slightly. "You... are you- are you okay with... this? I mean," he coughs, glances down, looking adorably insecure, "You're not just doing this because I wanna do this, I mean, 'cos I _do_ wanna do this, you have _no_ _idea_, man, god, I can't even finish my train of thought, you're _so_ hot-"

The Spaniard sits up and kisses his geek into silence. "Jensen," he murmurs, "I started this, remember? _Would I have said those things if I did not mean them_?"

The hacker hesitates, translating, and then slowly, like the sun emerging from behind rain clouds, his smile reappears. "No. I guess not." His hand comes up, strokes the smaller man's cheek.

"I love you, too," Cougar says, pressing a kiss to that smile.

"Good," Jensen replies, slightly muffled, and his hand creeps down once more, making the black-haired man throw his head back. The smile becomes a smirk, and the tech pumps his friend slowly, teasingly. Cougar endures this for a few moments, his legs straining, then pushes the hand away (very reluctantly) and attacks the hacker's belt, growling like his namesake.

"Okay, okay!" Jensen laughs as his pants are ripped open. "Hang on- easy, cowboy, I'm not gonna evaporate- lemme just grab-" He stands, stepping out of his pants and digging through the back pocket. "I, uh, I brought this-" he produces a small tube, "Y'know, on the off chance you decided not to murder me..."

Cougar grins back at him, dangerous and a little scary, that grin that has come to be known as the "Cougar Likes This Plan" grin, and lies down, spreading his limbs across the bed in a blatant invitation.

"Oohh," Jensen purrs, "I like that image. I'm gonna store that file for future long, boring stakeouts." He tugs his boxers down, opens the tube, and squirts a blob of gel into his palm, warming it as he crawls back onto the mattress. Unconsciously biting his lip, he lowers his hand and presses a slick finger into Cougar, cautious at first, almost withdrawing at the groan he gets. The sniper shakes his head frantically, insisting that it's a good groan and to keep going or he _will_ murder the hacker.

"If you insist..." Jensen adds another two fingers, twisting them, his eyes lighting up like he's broken some super government code when he finds something that makes Cougar rear up, cursing and moaning. "_You like that_?"

"_S_-_si_," the sniper pants, eyes closing as sparks shoot up his spine. "More... Jensen- _please_... you- _now_-"

"Okey-dokey." The taller Loser withdraws his fingers, enjoying the hitch in his companion's breath, and pours another jet of gel onto his cock, hissing. "Shhit, that's cold- _oh_..."

His complaint is cut short by Cougar's hand grabbing him, rubbing and smoothing the lube over his member as he gasps. "Oh Jesus, Cougs..."

The Spaniard pulls his hand away and slings a leg around the larger man, making his point clear without words. Jensen ruts against him, sinks in slowly, withdraws, then thrusts hard enough to make Cougar see stars.

"_Oh fuck, yes_!" Cougar's hands come up to grip the hacker's shoulders, bruising and begging, and Jensen has no choice but to obey the silent message in his lover's eyes. He thrusts again, grinds their hips together like matching gears, thrusts and moans and keeps up a running commentary with the occasional Spanish word thrown in for Cougar's benefit.

"I love you," he kisses a line up the smooth column of throat, merging their mouths, wrapping his arms around the sniper's waist and hoisting him higher on the bed for a better angle as he pounds into him. "_Te amo, Carlos_."

"I love you, Jake," Cougar replies, kissing his hacker again and again, nose brushing his jaw as he sucks a red spot into his neck.

"Oh, god- _Coug_- I can't- I'm gonna-"

"_Si_- harder, please, _do it_-"

Their speed increases, the bed creaking, their breath coming out as twin tides of grunting, gasping, pleasure-induced groans and swears and endearments. Jensen cries out, his hips pumping so quickly that the headboard slams against the wall with each movement, and Cougar responds with a roar, both legs locked around the blonde's form. They slow, their bodies gleaming with sweat, still planting feverish kisses along each other's skin wherever it's available. Jensen's arms give out; he falls forward, letting his forehead rest on the sniper's shoulder, feeling weirdly proud that his stomach and chest are sticky with Cougar's semen. He lazily presses his lips to the Spaniard's chin, his cheek.

After about five minutes of panting silence, the tech announces, "Well. That was absolutely amazing and I vote that we do it at least twice a day. More would be good."

Cougar snorts tiredly, too content under the warm weight of Jensen's body to bother responding. He kicks at the sheets until the hacker gets the point and pulls them up, using the top sheet to wipe himself and his friend. He throws the now-messy sheet aside and draws the blankets up, cocooning the two of them together.

"Buenes noches, Carlos."

"Good night, Jake."

~::~

THERE. FINALLY! *phew* Wow, it got pretty damn fluffy. AGAIN.

...Okay, now I have to go finish the other ten or so fics I'm working on. Sigh... Hope you enjoyed, thanks for your patience.

The song that inspired the title:

La noche irá sin prisa de nostalgía

Habrá de ser un tango nuestra herida

Un acordeón sangriento nuestas almas

Seremos esta noche todo el día

Vuelve a mí

Ámame sin luz

En nuestra alcoba azul

Donde no hubo sol para nosotros

Ciégame

Mata mi corazón

En nuestra alcoba azul

Mi Amor

Translation:

The night will continue without the haste of nostalgia

This tango will be our wound

And this bleeding accordian will represent our souls

This night will be our day, all of our days

Come back to me

Love me without the need of light, in our blue alcove

Where there was never any sun to shine on us

Blind me

Kill my heart in our shared blue alcove,

My love

Oh, and Jensen's altered Journey lyrics that my friends and I came up with (there are more lines, but I am too lazy to remember them):

Some will win

Some will lose

Some are born to sleep with Cougs...

SEEYA NEXT TIME, PEOPLE.


End file.
